Before I navigated my vengeance era, I had never really put any thought to this question.

If someone had asked me that question, I might have given a pompous answer of the kind—”Oh! I could never!”

Feeling the good chemicals associated with a momentary ego boost flood me. But the answer lacked balls. You know what it’s like when an answer lacks balls, yeah?

What I was really saying there was: “I would always choose not to.”

A statement like that begs the question—
Can you truly exercise the choice to not do something if you do not have or do not believe you have the capacity for that act?

To present what might seem like an absurdly unrelated example from that other theme that my writings have thoroughly explored.

If I asked a man—”Could you make love to a woman for 90 minutes without pause?”¹, and his answer is—”Oh, I wouldn’t want that.”

Would that be a truthful statement if he did not have or did not believe he had the capacity to be a marathonic love machine?

There is more of an overlap in these themes than may appear at first glance.

Both capacities rely on the acknowledgement of the animal nature of the human body.

Marathonic lovemaking requires the capacity to maintain an active horizontal spine—an animal feature of the human body that has since evolved to be upright. There is many inherent weapons of harm, and by extension murder, on the human body that a man living a civilized life may not recognize—weapons that animals use pretty regularly.

There are a few stages in the journey of a human being attempting to reconnect to a specific animalistic capacity of the human body.

Here, I want to acknowledge that I’m framing these capacities as being latent in the human body. That is a different framing from saying that these capacities can be acquired. I believe that is a bias I picked up from my cold exposure experimentation era. Tired of losing gloves and constantly changing layers in my first proper winter in New York City, I began progressively exposing my body to colder and colder temperatures to test my body’s capacity to withstand the elements. With my breath being an ally, practicing maintaining calmness inside, I was able to hike snow-clad mountains in the Hudson Valley for hours at a time at sub-zero temperatures. There was a distinct clicking into gear phenomenon that I’d experience in these experiments where it seemed like an inner furnace was turning on and I’d switch from “oh this is damn cold” to “hmm, this is quite nice actually”.

It seemed to me—and Wim Hof claims so too—that this capacity was latent in the body. Stuffed away due to our collective economic progress into comfort culture.

Having said that, here are the stages of reconnection.

Stage 0: Complete Obliviousness to Capacity
Stage 1: Awareness of Capacity
Stage 2: Buds of Connection to Capacity
Stage 3: Successfully Tested Connection to Capacity
Stage 4: Choice to Employ/Not Employ Capacity

It’s unclear to me if stage 4 can truly be reached before stage 3. And this presents quite the conundrum on capacities that are morally ambiguous like sex or murder.

In 2025, I was trying out a very Bible Belt Christian protocol to find a wife—even sitting with the provocation of not kissing till the wedding day.

This was right after I had unlocked repeated marathonic lovemaking sessions with my then girlfriend. Editor’s note: she might not vibe with this labeling, but we never got to have that conversation properly and she was my first proper girlfriend really ever since I dove deep into conscious kink and neo-Tantra starting in early 2022.

So then, as a good Christian, I began to wonder if prolonged sexual capacity was truly a universally desirable trait?

I’d think it is? You could still choose to cut it short but if you don’t have the capacity, you are not really at choice, no?

But then, how could one develop the same without sexually exploring with many partners? In the open love community I was a part of prior to my Christian era, a common analogy that does the rounds is that if you want to be the best at tennis, would it make sense for you to stick to one play partner?

I wanted to go around and ask the married couples in my Church what their longest sex sessions were, but very soon I learned that the Church community I was in, wasn’t as practiced as say the ISTA gang I used to hang out with, in discussing matters of intimacy—ok, I’m being a bit facetious here, I knew that already going in but I do like entering new spaces while making room for surprises. So I kept my sense of what it might be like (viz. bias) aside, and still explored asking well-phrased questions to test the waters a bit.

See, if you phrase your controversial questions well enough, you can tell when you are reaching an other’s verbalizing capacity. Once you reach the edge of unalchemized shame, the throat starts closing up and with that the capacity to put into words, one’s inner experience. As a side note, the same starts happening in arousal, which is what makes pre-intimacy checkin conversations so crucial in cultures where women feel comfortable changing their mind on how an evening of intimacy felt, the day after.

The provocateur dives right in without care for the other’s experience of confronting their own shame. I did that for a bit and it isolated me. And that brought me to the art of opening up such subjects, with care and tact—and in a manner of speaking, it isn’t that different from the art of arousal.

Now, of course, focusing on objective measures like prolonged sexual capacity—which I’ve defined (a bit arbitrarily) at 90 minutes of pause-free dicking, because dicking is a pussy massage and 90 min is industry standard for a good massage—or awareness of erogenous zones or embodied attunement to subtle body arousal cues is one way of understanding quality lovemaking.

In enumerating and exploring these specific traits in my writings, I am bringing a reductive paradigm to understanding lovemaking.

The kind of reductive paradigm that is often found in scientific study or engineering projects.

Observe something mysterious, develop tools to predictably bring forth specific responsiveness to stimuli and in the journey, construct models to make sense of the phenomenon.

In this process, often we reduce what is observed to quantifiable measures. Whether the mystery is deep outer space or a woman’s body or to be honest, even your own body, the same method could be applied.

A lot of my techniques around fostering responsiveness to erotic stimuli have had their roots in me using my own hands to quieten and gently hold my body deep inside panic attacks.

Gradually, as my heart opened up, I realized that one could have a marriage that is so absorbed in quality, irreducible love where none of these quantifiable traits matter. Where there is no love to be made, love just is.

Don’t you think so?

In spite of the very reductive lens through which I’ve explored lovemaking in my writing, I truly believe so deep inside my heart.

And so if that’s the case, then our conundrum is solved. One could exercise full choice to not employ a particular capacity without a successfully tested connection to said capacity.

And yet to the part of me that leans towards preparation, that sounds like a gamble. I don’t know. I really don’t. Perhaps, what we are lacking are community initiation rituals for men (and women) whereby the underlying connection to the animal body is never lost, so these skills remain manifest instead of turning latent. Thereby not needing multiple explorations—because Lord, does it tax the heart to have multiple sex partners!—to unlock the skills because there is nothing to be unlocked?

An elder just whispering the secrets to you, to show your woman a good time.

I vividly recall the moment where I landed into the clarity that—yes, I could kill my perpetrator if I so choose to. Again, a gear clicked within me.

I went from Stage 0, through 1 onto 2 for murder.

(Thank the good Father, I never got to Stage 3 as I allowed myself to be covered in the blood of Jesus instead of being splattered with the blood of my perp.)

Once it clicked, it seemed almost trivial.

Step 1: Procure a gun
Step 2: Find time to talk to perp
Step 3: Shoot

Much of the logistical overhead was really in step 1 and even more so, in step 4 to increase the likelihood of staying alive and living a life unencumbered by law enforcement.

The trauma of sodomy or fellatio for a heterosexual man can feel so emasculating that I understand why I chased regaining my sense of masculinity, via rightful vengeance for so long.

Could I have done so via another pathway? Perhaps. I don’t know, to be honest. But making space for vengeance fantasization quenched that burning pit in my stomach.

Once I allowed myself to believe that I could kill my perpetrator if I chose to—still Stage 2, as I never got to successfully test it out—I actually found room to consider other pathways like lodging a police case, running a news report in local media, or just attempting another conversation with him. The last option I had tried once unsuccessfully in early 2023 but was interrupted by his daughter. For now, I feel lethargy when I consider it. It’s the kind of lethargy one might feel trying to convince a romantic partner that their actions hurt you, when they’re not open to empathetically hearing you out.

Akin to the gear clicking experience that I have described in both my experiments with cold exposure and with openness to murder, I vividly remember a similar moment while exploring intimacy with a lover earlier this year.

By then, I had already had some success in reproducing marathonic lovemaking with different women and had already written about it. I had already drawn the parallel between a good dicking and a long pussy massage and as I flowed in explicit, verbal flirtation with her, I proposed to her that her pussy deserved a nice, long cock massage.

We were still new to each other and while we clearly had chemistry, relational safety wasn’t yet fully established.

As I got back home, I realized that this was an entirely new domain for me.

To claim a skill increases the pressure to live up to the claim, especially in unfamiliar, unsafe terrain.

I followed up by setting expectations for our time together letting her know how I approach intimate time—which is with zero expectations, neither on me nor on her. This is a time for us to connect, to get to know each other and there are a variety of ways to do so. Conversation, dance, humor and lovemaking. There are plenty of ways to make love without taking clothes of, without even getting into penetration. And I prefer not to move faster than the pace at which my own body unfolds into Eros.

Then when we met up, there were a few sticky conversational moments which had actually dampened my Eros, but I had made a strong commitment to myself to always move harmoniously through stickiness. And my mind was still committed to exploring this new realm of sexual capacity.

Can I live up to a promise?

When we started getting hot and heavy, I worked on her for a bit with the already established clarity that we may not end up having sex that night. That allowed me to relax, lean back and just admire the mystery that an erotically charged feminine body is. Perhaps because of how I broke into artistry via Shibari, but truly nothing evokes the Artist in me like a Muse breathing, moaning and shivering as my hands work on her. My senses drop into presence, time slows down and I feel attuned to minute shifts both within me and inside her. There are times I can get so lost in the connection, that I’m not aware of my surroundings whatsoever.

At some point in the leisure of this experience, I felt a click. If I were to put words into it, it was as if something shifted—the gear—deep inside behind my abdomen and organs. The flow began between my heart and cock. I have written about this flow before and had experienced it enough number of times to know that I was ready for marathonic lovemaking. And we did so through the night and then again, in the morning. I was able to live up to a flirtatious promise 😅

Throughout the experience, I felt great spaciousness—spaciousness to dick her when she felt ready without feeling the need to be inside her.

Full employment of a capacity without being subject to it.

Looking back, it was really my mind that drew me to explore sexually with women while pausing the search for marriage. Partly, it was due to the uncertain immigration situation I navigated earlier this year. Partly, it was due to (a scientific) curiosity of being able to reproduce the sexual performance. And to be perfectly honest—this I realized in hind sight—because I had fallen in love with a close friend who I was incompatible with, it so confused my body, that coupled with the chaos of not being sure of my status in the US which then escalated into fear of ICE detention, it opened up this small window where I chased sexually-free American women before leaving the US.

As that chapter closed—it was quite the adventure… do I regret it? I’m not sure. I think I made the most of the cards I was dealt and I learnt even more how tender and sensitive my heart is and how stressful relational chaos can feel after I have shared bed with a lady—I found myself back in the exploration for life partnership, but with greater ease than I had in my good Christian dating season.

Here I feel called to clarify what I mean by being a good Christian, which is a way of being that is driven by an external sense of what are good ways of being, either through interpretations of the Bible or through suggestions presented by the Christian community you find yourself in. For example, a favorite question I’d pose to folks in the WNC Christian community was if they thought side-hugs amongst men and women, not in partnership, was scriptural or just a facet of the particular Christian culture we were in.

And that’s one of the challenges of Christianity—or any doctrine really that claims to present the Truth—because the truths that Christianity holds are so potent, the potency of such prevalent truths in Christian communities, parroted by members from a place of wanting to belong, can rob the individual of this rich experience of recognizing the subjectivity of truth and through that, the gradual discovery of objective Truth. Disconnected from their own inner subjectivity, many can still live good lives because what is presented as the objective truth in the community is still pretty solid, and yet there is something missing.

When the mind takes in these binary ideas of right and wrong from the external world, the mind becomes the Dictator of your body. Like mine was in this season I described above.

But when the same emerges from your heart, there is so much more spaciousness and relaxation in following the same set of ideas, because the heart inherently is a spacious leader. And when these truths do emerge from your heart, they are not entirely the same as when you were living according to their mental equivalents.

I have found myself spaciously letting go of my personal desire for fatherhood. Open to the possibility that God’s Will for my life dictates something else! Even letting go of the desire for romantic relationship.

Open to marriage, open to fatherhood, but no longer looking for it; with the clarity that side quests tend to wreck my heart.

When I was in my good Christian season, there was a line of scripture that’d stump me.

“The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?”
Jeremiah 17:9

Having come from the embodied spiritual community, where the heart is elevated above the mind, I did not understand how the heart could mislead. And this chapter showed me how! It simultaneously showed me what I need for my heart to flutter open to a woman I find attractive—a series of conversations filled with care, verbal chemistry and deepening curiosity; while I pray away any premature lustful hooks in spacious time apart—and also showed me that my heart is not what tracks relational compatibility.

My mind is.

My cock signals to me if there is attraction or not very early on. My mind can track basic compatibility and surface the right questions at the right time. And then there’s a simple playbook I need to follow before my heart flutters open, limiting the extent of physical intimacy before then, but not being dogmatic or draconic about it.

After this short open season for hookups, the sex researcher inside me also oriented towards the curiosity of what magical alchemy awaits in deepening with one woman. Qualitative lovemaking that blossoms in a container of focus and devotion, that naturally provides repeated attempts to explore conjugal intimacy, while truly enjoying the exploration of all facets of romance.

Because, the key I have found for marathonic lovemaking without any external drugs, is that yes, there are a bunch of technicalities that build out the plumbing—presence, connection to one’s breath, breathing up lust to not have the attention get locked in the nether regions, practicing spacious artful exploration of a woman’s body, training regularly in the gym for strength and stamina—and yet the key, and by that I mean, that in the absence of this quality, the faucet gets fully turned off—is that my heart needs to be in it.

My heart supplies the energy for prolonged arousal without succumbing to unexpected softening or ejaculation—for a session of long lovemaking. And in that again, is the thread that connects these absurdly unrelated capacities to murder and to have great sex.

I did not go to Stage 3 of the former because my heart was never really into it.